I felt it immediately.
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There she was, Claire, moving through her daughter’s body. She was in the shape of Lila’s mouth and in the steel of her posture.
« You’re him, » she said, sliding into the booth.
I just smiled at her.
« She called me once, »
Lila said, her eyes downcast.
« She didn’t say much.
Just that she hoped I was okay. »
« I think she wanted more, » I said. « She didn’t know how. »
Lila’s fingers picked at the edge of a paper napkin.
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« She didn’t owe me anything, James, » she said. « Neither do you. »
« She didn’t know how. »
She didn’t cry or move, and somehow, her silence said enough.
A few days later, while we sat in her sparse kitchen drinking tea, she told me the truth. Lila worked in adult films. And she had for years. It hadn’t been a dream or a choice — it had been survival.
« I’m not broken, if that’s what you think, » she said, meeting my eyes. « I’m just tired of pretending I haven’t been through hell. »
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There was no apology in her tone.
Just weariness, plain and honest.
« I’m not here to fix you, Lila, » I said after a moment. « I’m just here. If you want that. »
She didn’t say anything right away. She just sat with her tea in both hands, staring into the steam like it held an answer. I started to leave, but she reached for my wrist.
« You can stay, » she murmured. « And we can do a DNA test. I’ll understand if you want nothing to do with me when the results come back, and I’m not your daughter. »
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That was the beginning…
« Honey, I’ll stay, irrespective of those paternity test results. I wouldn’t blame you or Claire for any of it. »
That was the beginning of everything.